Saintly Sword Romantic Story
by Cheetah Smith
Summary: Legend of Mana. Complete re-write of old fic. 900 years ago, the Mana Tree burned to the ground. Since then, the Tree has regrown, corrupted and rotten with evil; Fa'Diel is dying. A girl named Anli and a boy named Kaleb are the ones chosen by the Goddess to save the broken world. This is their story. Eventual EscadxHeroine, HeroxEsmeralda.
1. Prologue: Goddess's Chosen

Saintly Sword Romantic Story

I do not own Legend of Mana. It rightfully belongs to SquareEnix, formally known as Square Soft. This is a work of fanfiction, written on whatever spare time I can manage, and a project of love.

* * *

Prologue: Goddess's Chosen

"_It is love; love, the comfort of the human species, the preserver of the universe, the soul of all sentient beings, love, tender love."_

– _Voltaire_

* * *

The woman – young, with long strawberry blonde hair, and dressed in the simple jerkin and trousers of a blacksmith – stood with her mouth agape. The door was wide open, with a cloaked middle-aged, dark-skinned woman holding a swaddled infant still cooing and grasping at long, lush black hair. The younger one could only shake her head.

"How?"

The cloaked woman's beautiful, wizened face clouded over in a haunted expression.

"She was chosen. You understand what that means."

"B-but!" The younger one protested. "She's my brother's daughter! Their first born! They wanted a child for years and now their family is being torn apart?!" The smith paced back and forth in the main room of the homestead, the fire still burning bright and warm in the hearth, a cozy and stark contrast to the news she was receiving. "We have seen far too much, for ourselves and for that of the world. Why must this continue?"

"I… I can honestly say that even I don't know. All I know for right now is that she and one other were chosen, and we are running out of time."

The young blacksmith slumped down in a nearby chair, eyes glazed over and staring blankly. The cloaked woman stepped closer, cradling the small infant in her arms.

"Who is the other one?" The young woman finally spoke after several long, agonizing minutes.

"A boy. A mere year older than she." The infant was passed between the two women, and the blacksmith awkwardly cradled the tiny thing in her callused hands, her athletic and toned arms.

"And what of the boy?"

The cloaked woman paused, thinking carefully of her answer.

"His parents were already are lost to us. I found a veteran of the wars. A kind old man with a great deal of gentleness and character, and of whom had lost his family once before. The boy will be raised as he would his own son."

"So that leaves…" The young woman stammered, her words failing her. "That leaves my family, and the boy."

"Her parents are gone. The Faeries grow ever more bold, and ever more ruthless."

"That makes three. Me and…"

"Yes."

The cloaked woman paced back and forth as if deep in thought. This was a troubling development. She no longer had the time she needed to prepare for what was to come, and her fall-back plan was flawed at best.

"They're only children. Just… Just mere children, barely stating anew in this world, and yet… They face an impossible task."

"Indeed, indeed… I had hoped it would not come down to this. That we would have more time, to allow the Sproutlings to gather their strength, to allow the world to heal more on its own… But…"

A hesitation.

"The Goddess is fallen. The Tree is in crisis. We have no choice."

"Perhaps we never did." the young blacksmith lamented, hugging the baby girl, thumb stroking the tender skin, the flushed cheeks and full, pink lips. "She's barely weeks old, and she already has much of her mother's face. She'll be quite the pretty one when she grows. Oh look, her father's eyes. My brother's eyes. Blue."

There was a sadness to the statement, as if the young woman had already fallen in love and was both saying hello and goodbye.

The cloaked woman turned, facing the window. The winds of change were echoing, whispering of the task yet to be done, and yet to be fulfilled. She closed her eyes. A breath, a sigh, long and slow and deliberate, barely a touch upon the air. Something had to be done. Something had to be made right once more. This simply could not be the best course of action. Something… Something… Unless. She opened her eyes again, resolve tempered and renewed, like the forging of steel within the flames and coals.

"There is a way. I have a way."

"What is it?"

"I will have to work quickly, as time is short. It has always been short, ever since my mother foolishly burrowed into a place she was not allowed, desiring a power that was not hers to claim."

"What is it, Mistress Puppeteer?"

"The other six do not know of me. They cannot know of me until I allow for it. They will encourage the current path, but I… I have another way."

"Tell me."

The Puppeteer smiled.

"The only way for them to even have a chance is to be not hidden from the world, but to embrace it. Not to deny the bonds of life, but to know of them. They will be so loved. They will not be alone."

The blacksmith stood, shifting and cradling the infant ever closer. The little girl made a soft noise as she drifted to sleep.

"They will come to know of family, of friends, and even a lover's touch?"

"Yes. But I have much to do. Much of what I need has been scattered across the land. It is a flawed plan, with a great deal of risk, and will require much time and careful planning. But… It could very well possibly work."

The cloaked woman turned to leave, but stood and watched as the young blacksmith murmured, whispering to the sleeping little girl. "You are going to so loved, little one. One day, you will grow, and see this world with your own eyes. You will do many, wonderful, marvelous things. And you will make us all so, so proud."

"You will be so, so loved, little one. My little girl. You mother and father, they loved you so, and it broke them to have to leave you behind. But I shall never leave you now. You have me. Your Auntie. My dear little girl. You are never alone."

She continued.

"You will know the comfort of a family, and all of the warmth and softness it gives. You will know the loyalty of friends, of whom shall always be true. You will know the tenderness of a lover's touch, and their unwavering affection and trust. You know all of these things and more, my dear, sweet girl. They will not abandon you. You, my dear, you will be so, so loved, and so passionately give that love in return."

The cloaked woman's face softened, and eyes gleamed with determination. She turned to leave. Her task before her daunting and long. She had much to do, and little time to do it. The fate of saving a broken and dying world, a hard one. The blacksmith barely even looked up.

"Guard her well, Brighid Bolnivard. Guard her well, and raise her. Love her as your own."

"She already is…" Brighid murmured softly, eyes twinkling with such love. With a small jolt, she glanced up. "What are their names? The girl and the boy?"

Anuella the Puppeteer halted at the door, parted lips then turning upward in a small smile.

"Their names are Anli Bolnivard and Kaleb M'avyare. They are the last, and they are the Goddess's chosen."

* * *

End Prologue

Life, lack of interest, and the general need to jump-start a freelance career and finish my college degree has left this fic on the back burner for years, and it's about time I dived back into writing again. Sad to say, the story I do have already no longer fits the story I have in mind and want to tell. So here I am, re-writing it. As I'm a freelance creative professional, my work and projects come first, fandom second. But I'm determined to not let this fall by the way side. Wish me luck. :)

I will say this upfront: this is an EscadxHeroine story. It's my oldest OTP, and I've been a fan of the pairing since I first played the game. And yes, I do fanart too. They're a fun pair, so please do stick around.

Finally, I have a tumblr. Link's in my profile. Bug me there. :D


	2. Chapter 1: The Blacksmith and The Knight

Chapter One: The Blacksmith and The Knight

* * *

It was just another, perfectly ordinary day. The early morning had come. The Sproutling, loitering about the yard of a cozy, reasonably sized country homestead, was a small creature, with the size and appearance of a small child. Although in reality, it was more of a living, walking, thinking plant. It was an innocent thing, heedless of the world around it, and nonchalantly continued about its meandering. The Sproutling liked clouds. They were always so nice and fluffy.

The homestead that the Sproutling wandered around in was cozy, reasonably sized place, set in a clearing in an old forest. A large, ancient tree crowned the top of low, gently rolling, wide hill, and the surrounding area surrounding by the green of tree and grass. A two-story cottage was nestled neatly underneath the ancient tree on the hill, sheltered by the wide branches and roots and the green, lush leaves. A set of outdoor workshops including an old smithy were located near the back.

So the Sprouting wandered some more, before deciding that basking in the warm rays of sunlight was a nice thing to do. It could watch those big, fluffy, white clouds roll on by. It could even look for shapes in those clouds. After all, it was a fine spring morning, already warm and sunny with cool breezes and clear blue skies. He liked, pretty, sunny days like this. They made his leaves perk. Oblivious to events yet to occur, the Sproutling happily sprawled out on the ground. He paid little attention to everything else.

…

In the old smithy, a young woman worked alone, careful in her movements. Many bottles, scrolls, metals, leathers, strings, pellets, herbs, trinkets and other miscellaneous items and ingredients lay in neat little piles on a near-by work table. The nearby lanterns on the walls, alcoves and tables flickered brightly, and the sun shone in through the open windows, providing air and light. The youth rummaged through her tools, producing hammer, tongs and bellows. She pulled aside a well-used apron and protective gloves, checking the shelves for the oils and greases she would later need.

She was a slight, petite young woman barely into the spring of her eighteenth year. Very long and thick sunny-gold blonde hair framed her heart-shaped, faintly freckled face and she had bright, vibrant blue eyes. The girl had clad herself in a form-fitting, light-weight violet skirt that slit open into five points, like the petals of a flower, and a securely tied pink breast band crisscrossing her chest. She tugged at the thick, elbow-length gloves on her arms to better secure them, and took a moment to adjust the fur-topped boots. Painted, decorative hairsticks sloppily laced into her hair and jutting out at odd angles completed the ensemble.

Her name was Anli Bolnivard. And she was the local blacksmith, living an hour's walk outside the borders of the small country town of Domina.

Anli hummed a playful tune under her breath. After all, working in the smithy itself and the workshops had always been a good thing for her. More poignantly so, ever since her Aunt Brighid died some years ago. Anli brushed hair away from her eyes. There was no need to remember sad things now. Her aunt loved her, and that was enough.

The young woman turned her attention back to present, trying to stuff memories out of her mind. In response, she opted for humming another happy tune. It was a slow week, with hardly any clients coming her way, looking for weapons and armor to be commissioned or repaired. And not many orders from town for tools or trinkets. She had every reason to be cheerful. She was going to tinker with her lucky sword; she had the full day to do it.

Anli's lucky sword as an old blade, once owned by her long-dead father, passed down to her. A fine weapon with the core metals forged from Granz Steel, and a sturdy hilt with a simple round pommel and wrapped with tanned leather. The blade had a neatly chiseled blood-groove down the center, with decorative etchings of twisting vines and flowers. Within its blade, magical enchantments tempered and forged into it, giving it more strength. For a moment, she thought of how her aunt had passed the blade down to her, telling her of her father, and of how he relinquished the life of a traveling fighter in favor of settling down. And of how the sword fell to his sister. And now, it was hers to claim. For a moment, Anli could almost feel her aunt's guiding presence, hear the sound of her voice, see her face, her smile...

No more sad thoughts. Her aunt was gone, having died of illness and leaving the young woman alone. But the past was the past. Today was today. And today, Anli had the whole day to tinker. Magic enchantments were her specialty. Anli set the sword carefully down on the workbench, setting aside the tanned leather sheath and belt that accompanied it with an eager little grin. The blade's edges had dulled of late. And one of the enchantments was fading a little. It was the fire enchantment, if she recalled. Anli thought for a moment and went to the shelves.

"Bottled dragon's flame… Dragon's flame… Huh, bottled dragon's breath. Dragon fangs, dragon scales…let's see… Cocktarice feathers, no. Oh, an Undine coin. I forgot I had one of those lying around. Argh, I wish those weren't so hard to come by. Let's see… No, not greenwarish herbs. Virgin's sigh… No… Has to be something. Ugh, where did I put it?"

Her hands traced the surfaces of bottles, boxes and bags, until she squealed happily and found what she was looking for.

"Aha! Dragon's flame! Good! And… Oh. Last one. Great. I wonder if any of the trading posts have suitable substitutes?"

She set it carefully on the workbench, along with the other materials she had collected.

"Let's see, what else… what else… Oh, I think there's an old ox horn around… Or a couple of glow crystals somewhere. Maybe some flaming quills? Oh, didn't know I still had some of that lyrium dust stuff. Crazy story behind that one. No, mixing it in now would only destabilize the magic agents already forged into the metal… And Granz Steel isn't always the best metal work with for enchantments of any kind. I'll be needing an adequate stabilizing compound... And– oh. Damn."

Anli then realized she didn't have the materials she needed. Enough to adequately finish a commission, or do basic repairs and maintenance, but nothing of the work she _really_ wanted to do.

"How typical. I finally have the time to work on some of my own projects for a change, and surprise! Don't have what I need."

Muttering in thought, Anli set about to cleaning up her workspace, putting the gathered materials back in their rightful places and sheathing her sword. The tools she left on the workbench. As she was cleaning, she took out a scrap sheet of parchment and began jotting down notes of various items and materials she would need.

"Need more polishing oils. Another jar of grease – make that two just to be on the safe side. Oh, need some tanned leathers. One of the trading posts should have those. Some quartz dust, sandstone for sharpening… Need some iron ore. I'm always needing more iron ore… As for enchantments… Those require exotic materials, so I will have to check the trading posts for those. If something catches my eye, might as well grab it."

A glint of light caught her attention. There was a faint breeze, even though the doors to both the smithy and the workshops were firmly closed. Anli began to feel unsettled, as if there was looming magic; the charged air before the coming storm. It was both compelling and terrifying.

Anli steeled herself, a hand reached for a hammer, before turning around to face the workbench.

There was nothing. No threat. No breeze. Not even some leaves scattered on the floor. The only thing that could be found was a lone, antique sword.

The sword was very, very old: centuries old, at the very least. The blade was battered, ravaged from the hands of time. But even through the rust and tarnish, there was a brilliant, silvery white sheen to the metal. The blade had an elegant shape, with a gently curve near the hilt, sloping in, and then again like a leave, before finally tapering to a fine point. The hilt had no cross guard, with only tarnished, aged gold accents to distinguish it, and a white jewel for a pommel stone.

The sword instantly intrigued Anli, and she was upon it.

"Huh…" she murmured aloud in thought. "The metal looks like Ishe Platinum, but it's clearly not. Has the same sort of resistance as Lorimar Iron or Altena Alloy, but it's not those metals either. Definitely not Granz Steel, Rolante Silver, or Vizel Gold, for that matter. Pommel stone looks like a pure white crystal of some kind, very similar to quartz. But it's not any stone or gem or mineral I've ever seen."

The young woman carefully handled the blade, one hand firmly grasping the hilt, the other gently touching the edge of the blade. She ran a finger across it: no blood or cut. It seems that age had taken its toll on the blade's effectiveness. And yet, there was an ancient power radiating from the sword; a great and powerful magic. It was a thing she clearly recognized, but at the same time completely alien to her.

_Remember me!_

A voice called out, the voice of a woman. Clear, soothing, like the sound of morning bells heralding the coming dawn. The sound of rapturous music. The sound of beauty itself.

_Need me!_

The voice sounded distressed, as if in great pain. Anli felt faint. The dizzying wave of nausea overwhelming her, and she stumbled back.

_I can provide you with everything!_

Anli grasped a hand to her forehead, rubbing her temples and squeezing her eyes shut. The girl gritted her teeth, sweat began to form.

_I am love…_

Anli hunched over. The world seemed to fall apart.

_Find me, and walk beside me…_

Disoriented, the young woman bumped against the shelf. In that instant, the ill feeling was gone, and the young woman was jolted back into reality. It was enough to knock over several of the old materials, and Anli hurriedly stilled them. Only too late did she realize that the bottled Dragon's Flame was toppling over. With a loud cry, she scrambled frantically to catch the bottle before it hit the ground, before barely dropping it herself when the bottle glowed red hot and a bright yellowish-orange.

"Oh _shit!_" she swore loudly, dashing hurriedly out of the smithy and into the main connecting room of the workshop and _no time_.

With a toss upward, the bottle hit the ceiling and the contents promptly exploded, throwing Anli back into the front door and crashing through it. A part of the ceiling caved in, dust and stone and wood crumbling into a heap on the ground. Shards of glass and remnants of magical flame sputtered and shattered.

All that came from Anli before she blacked out was a pitiable groan.

…

It was a fine enough day, still early in the morning, with the sun rising ever steadily into the sky and warming the earth. Lush green forest lined the sides of the dusty road, bordered by cobblestone. The weather, fair enough for travel, not too hot or cold, with the subtle touch of a balmy breeze.

If only he wasn't sick to death of it.

With a sigh, the young man rolled his shoulders, pausing to stretch out his protesting muscles. The night was long and quiet, making for lonely travel, and to top it all off, he was horribly lost. The traveler rubbed the bridge of his nose, callused fingers tracing a subtle scar from years past, in an effort to still a growing headache. Another hand went to the sword at his side, resting on the pommel, just to be sure it was still there. He was tired, he was hungry, he was alone and most annoyingly of all, he was _lost_.

A loud _boom_ caught his attention, shattering his thoughts. The young man jumped to his feet in a swift blur of motion, righting himself and a hand falling to his sword. As the traveler looked around, he spotted a pillar of blackening smoke coming from the distance, not at all far from where he was. It was a much-needed distraction. He ran.

He soon found himself running through a well-worn path just off the side of the main road and reaching deeper into the forest. He could smell the odor of burnt wood and stone, and he picked up his pace. Strangely enough, he didn't smell or hear any flames, and the smoke seemed to be…dying?

The path eventually led to a clearing in the middle of a forest, of which housed a cozy-looking homestead. A cottage under a great tree, gently slopping on a hill. An idle Sproutling, somehow not paying any attention to possible fire, lounged on the grass. But there was no sign of life anywhere, save for well-worn pathways. Where was the fire?

Frustrated, the man started calling out.

"Hey… hey! Anyone here? Hello? Is there anyone here?" When he received no reply, he checked the sky, noting the position of the fading smoke and hurried.

An old workshop, or was it a smithy of some kind? The time for questions however, would have to wait, when he spotted under a pile of wood and rubble and stone and brick a small, slim, figure laying still.

"Hey! HEY!"

He was at their side in an instant, tossing off debris and tugging them away from the now collapsing door frame of the smithy crumbling in out itself. A girl. A young woman, laying still and quiet, covered with soot and bruises. There was a now bleeding head injury, and she was limp.

"Argh, damn it…"

Just his luck. The first person he meets after ten very long, very lonely years, and she was unconscious.

…

The last thing Anli remembered was tossing the bottle of dragon's flame towards the ceiling of the workshops. Then light, sound, a force knocking her back. The feel of heavy wood and stone and brick splintering around her.

She didn't know how long she was out.

Anli started waking up. First, the dull, faded sound of a masculine voice growing louder and more panicked. Then a weight on her chest suddenly being lifted. The rough feel of soil and dirt scrapping against skin and cloth. Then large, rough, callused hands with long fingers lifting her up against a warm body. The sound of someone cursing and muttering under their breath.

_"Come on, come on… Damn it… There's… Wait, right…"_

A moment passed, and she was regaining consciousness, awkwardly cradled in the arms of a perfect stranger.

_"Sorry, first time casting this. I hope this works."_

There was a cool, soothing sensation on her forehead, fingers gently brushing against skin. There was the stickiness of blood on her forehead and hair. The wound sealed itself, the blood faded. Whatever other splitting aches and pains dulled until they were tolerable, at least enough to function.

With a groan, Anli opened her eyes again, taking a moment to sit up, supported by an armored arm.

"Woah, easy, easy…" came a low, almost husky voice. Not unpleasant. Dazed, Anli rubbed her forehead, and hand a hand through her hair, feeling carefully, for any injuries. After a moment, she leaned back just a bit, rolling her shoulders, trying to stretch out the protesting muscles, and found herself awkwardly pressed against the solid frame of a stranger.

Her curious gaze fell to the sight of the softly chiseled face of a handsome young man in his twenties. The first thing she noticed about him were his eyes – a striking, icy turquoise blue – then an aquiline nose, and long, sandy-blonde hair. He was a solidly built young athletic fighter, with the broad-shouldered, well-toned and muscular build of a knight or soldier. Anli then noticed that he was clad in the simple garb of a fighter: teal-hued and gold-lined shirt and shorts, fitting snug to his body, revealing much of his scarred chest and midriff, with the silvery-white and deep violet armored pauldrons, bracers, boots, and a cloth fauld flowing behind him. A green headband kept his hair out of his eyes. An elegant sword at his side.

"Uh…" her voice came out as a low buzz. In spite of herself, Anli felt a faint blush crossing her cheeks. The long-haired man only looked at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Hi?"

"Hi."

Anli watched, dazed, as the man held up his hand.

"Right, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Uh… three."

"Good. Let's see…" he muttered as if in thought, and then he turned to her, eyes much clearer. Anli marveled for a moment at how striking they were.

"What is your name?"

"The name's Anli. Anli Bolnivard. If you're looking for a blacksmith, sorry to say you're outta luck. I'm… sort of closed until I can…" She moved slowly, sitting up properly and taking a good long look at the now half-destroyed workshop. Anli sighed, before finishing. "…get… all of this fixed."

"Then it seems you have work to do."

"I'll be needing materials and funds first though." She groaned again.

"Such as the way of things. Do you know what day this is?"

"Calendar day?"

"Yes." He seemed hopeful. Anli shrugged.

"Uh… It's the third Salamander Day, of Barlen's first cycle. Early spring, and pretty early in the morning. Why?"

"Good." The man seemed to consider this information. He asked another question.

"Alright, do you know where you are?"

"I'm in front of my smithy at my home playing twenty questions with a very handsome and clueless stranger."

His eyes narrowed at that, an eyebrow raised and his lips quirked to one side. Anli couldn't help but grin, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Hey, you're the one asking questions."

"I wasn't asking for sass."

"I have more where that came from. I also have plenty more than just sass. I can also be pretty good at sweet-talking, swooning and unsolicited flirting. Take your pick."

The long-haired man could only look at her blankly; lips partially parted, eyebrows raised, and eyes blinking. At first, he appeared confused, a subtle red flush crossing his cheeks before the serious mask returned. His voice, a low buzz, before he found his words, a dry tone drawling out.

"I was not aware _unsolicited flirting_ was a symptom of head injuries."

"Would you rather have me start moaning and sighing instead? I can do that, but you would have to help me out a little bit in that area."

He stared at her blankly, before the faint blushing on his cheeks burned a deeper red and his eyes went wide with some understanding.

"…Wait, _what?_"

Anli grinned. She wasn't _completely_ serious, but it was fun to see him choke and sputter out the words, grumble and shake his head.

"_Honestly!_ Half of your smithy is destroyed and your–!" His words failed him.

"Well, I was kidding! Kind of. Mostly. Well, kidding about that part. And– _Ow!_" There was another sharp pain, and she clutched her head. The long-haired man sighed, before clumsily casting another healing spell.

"I am no healer, or mage for that matter… But such spells are useful."

Anli dutifully held still, breathing deeply as the comforting chill of the spell radiated and made the last of her throbbing aches fade.

"Thanks. You have good timing, you know that? If you hadn't come by, I would've buried under the rubble of my own workshops. Speaking of which… I need to take closer look. Do you mind?"

"Of course."

With that, the man stood, before lifting her up on his solid strength. Anli privately noted how _easily_ he picked her up, and teased again.

"So, make a hobby of rescuing damsels?"

"Uh… _No._" Back to being serious again. The young woman shrugged, before carefully limping over to the ruins.

The main body of the workshop had all but rendered without a ceiling, and its ruins lay crumbled on the ground in a heap of brick, mortar and wood. The door frame had caved in on itself, leaving nothing more than some remnant of an arch. The doors themselves, normally heavy and sturdy, lay splintered a few feet away. Anli stepped over the brick and stone, with the long-haired man close behind, a hand occasionally steadying her when she stumbled. There was a long relieved sigh.

"Oh good! The smithy itself is still intact!"

"You call this mess 'still intact'?"

"Better than the alternative."

"...Right." he deadpanned.

"Still, I'll be needing to head to town if I want to get started."

"Town?"

"Yeah. Oh right, you wanted to know where I was. Like I said, this is my homestead and my smithy. We're about little under an hour's walk outside the town of Domina, to the southwest. I take it you need to find a place to stay?"

"I do."

"Well, you're in luck. Just leave from here, take a right off the path and keep going southwest. You'll be in Domina soon enough. Anyway…"

Anli opened the door to the smithy, glad that it was still intact and structurally sound. Much to her pleasure, her lucky sword was still where she left it: safely in its sheath on her workbench.

"I am going to need to clean this mess up. And I'm going to need materials and funds to do it. Normally, I'd offer my services to you, fix your sword, that sort of thing. But, well, accidents happen. So odd jobs in town it is."

The long-haired man watched as she took her sword, and the belt and shield that accompanied it, strapping everything on with the precision of someone who not only knew their smithing, but also how to handle a weapon. He then noticed that she took another sword that appeared much older, of some unknown make and origin, and attaching it to a spare belt and sheath. Once more, she strapped the belt to her waist, adjusting both swords until they hung comfortably off her small frame.

"Give me a few minutes to clean myself up, and I can take you to town myself. What do you say?"

He seemed to consider this offer, his expression carefully blank. For a moment, Anli thought he would turn her down, and go ahead and leave, satisfied that the local klutz was alright and go about his day. It was only when he shrugged, crossing his arms with eyebrows raising.

"I don't see why not."

…

Anli emerged from her home only fifteen minutes later, having sufficiently cleaned herself of dirt and soot and checking over for any other injuries. Strapped securely around her shoulder was a modest rucksack. Much to her pleasure, the long-haired man still remained, waiting patiently and sitting on the path, watching the idling Sproutling.

"You are aware," he drawled, before standing and dusting himself off. "You have a Sproutling, yes?"

"I do indeed. He doesn't bother me, so I don't bother him."

"He's been staring at me at for the past fifteen minutes."

"Maybe he thinks you're pretty, like I do." The young woman beamed. The long-haired man only shook his head.

"More unsolicited flirting, I see."

"Yes, indeed." Anli beamed in response, eyeing the man's physique and noting the large, pale scar on his side, just below his ribs. She also noted he was at least a good foot taller than she was. Indeed, he was much taller than most men. She then watched as he crossed his arms almost expectantly.

"I take it you are ready to leave?"

"Yes, miss. I am."

Anli smiled as she sauntered down the path, gently brushing aside the curious Sproutling. "As I already said, my name is Anli. I am the local blacksmith and amateur engineer, with a broken smithy. Now that I've told you my name, why don't you tell me yours?"

"Engineer?"

Anli couldn't help but become excited.

"Aye! As much as I like blacksmithing, I've found the study of engineering an equally fascinating subject! When you think about it, engineering is a lot like smithing, because you're creating something new, and the more you tinker with it and add to it, the better it becomes. It's exhilarating to see the process, as well as the final result. Oh, you should see my study; it's got all kinds of tomes and scrolls and papers and notes on smithing and engineering all over the place! And I _do_ mean _all over_ the place! I really should take the time to clean up after I get my smithy fixed…"

Anli paused only momentarily before she continued.

"Anyway, The best place to study anything related to smithing or engineering would be in Geo. Or Lumina for that matter. At least, out here in the Free Peoples. Needless to say, the best places to go to study either one would be Altena or Jadd. Altena, especially, since a thousand years ago Mana began to wane. So what did they do? They blended the arts of magic and science together! Altena is renowned across the world for their engineers! And Jadd is not only the smithing capital of the world, but also the inventor's capital. More and more new innovations and ideas are exchanged there in that one city then in anywhere else. And don't get me started on Lumina's clock tower. That's thing's a _marvel_! And– Oh, right. Sorry. Here's a map." suddenly sheepish, Anli tugged out a small map from her rucksack, unfurling it and motioning him over.

The long-haired man blinked, curious as to why she suddenly withdrew right in the middle of her exuberant rambling. But instead of dwelling on the matter, he watched as her fingers traced the etchings of the aged parchment.

"You're near the town of Domina. As I've mentioned earlier, it's to the southwest of here, just little under an hour's walk away. Just a small country town. There's a bunch of farmers, trading posts and craftsmen at the outskirts, with your fairly standard country town settlements. An inn, a tavern, a market, and so on and so forth. Nice place. Nice people. You'll do well to check there for any supplies or information you might need."

Anli put the map away, before turning her gaze back to him.

"And you still didn't tell me your name. Or where you're from, for that matter."

"I hail from Gato Grottoes, one of the Twin Sister Cities."

"City of Warriors and Spirituality, right?"

"Correct." There was a subtle air of pride for the man, as if he would be more inclined to tell her more of his home city. Anli rolled her shoulders back, crossing her arms, her hip swayed and her head tilted slightly to one side. The man raised an eyebrow; the obvious gesture was more seductive in nature. It was an obvious ploy to get him to pay attention and start flirting. He didn't deal with idle flirting.

"Glad to know. Now, you're obviously a knight, as I can tell from your armor. Well, what armor you're actually wearing, anyway. I won't complain about you showing off that very nice physique, although I doubt your squishy bits will thank you if you're impaled by a blade or something."

There was a hard, blank stare as the man crossed his arms. Anli continued.

"Let's see… Definitely Lorimar Iron for the armor. Maybe Ishe Platinum, or a mixture of the two alloys. And the pommel stone on your sword is definitely not for show. It's a magic conduit for blade spells. Wouldn't be surprised if the blade's got some enchantments in it, as well as being made of the same fine metals as your armor."

"And?" The long-haired man was genuinely curious by now.

"The colors you wear. Definitely knight's colors. They look too much like something straight off a coat of arms than just some traveler's garb."

There was a nod. The ghostly trace of a pleased smirk faintly touched his lips, but only momentarily. A buoyant smile crossed Anli's features in triumph.

"If you must know…" The long-haired knight unfolded his arms with one hand idling on the hilt of his sword. "Yes, your assumption is correct. My name is Escad, a Holy Knight of the Liotte family. As I have said, I hail from Gato Grottoes and I am in the service of the Temple of Healing, as well as to the City itself. A pleasure."

"And what," the girl drawled as she placed a hand on her hip, just enough to drive in the flirting a bit more. "Is a Holy Knight – a member of nobility no less – doing all the way out here?"

"I'm lost. And I've been…" he paused, carefully choosing his words. "_Away_ from Gato Grottoes for nearly ten years. I am not familiar with this part of the country."

"You're in luck. You have a guide, and a map."

"Indeed. I am also in need of information. Any news, rumors, or even local customs would be a boon to me."

"Well, you'll find it in Domina, most like. Speaking of which. We should get going. The sooner we leave, the better. You can find what you need there, and I still need to start picking up some work if I want to fix my damned smithy."

Anli looked up at him.

"So what do you say?"

There was a short, clipped sound, almost like an amused barking laugh. Escad merely shrugged.

"Well, then let's go together."

…

The trip to Domina was uneventful and subdued. Aside from her blatant interest in him at the house, Anli had fallen into a much more quiet, thoughtful state. Perhaps it was just for the promise of some quiet company while on the road. Or perhaps it was because the girl was most _blatantly_ eyeing him, up and down his body, with an impish, approving grin.

Conversation was also scant, of which Escad privately noted as both a positive and a negative thing. Anli, however, felt it inappropriate to chatter about smithing or engineering if the there was no honest interest in it. She had to stop herself earlier, lest she'd chatter his ear off and he'd leave in irritation.

"_More than likely, he'll just get bored, like everyone else."_ Her hand went to the antique sword, hanging off her right side, touching her fingers to the white pommel stone. _"Besides, I've got other things to worry about."_

"Might I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you carrying two swords? The one you're touching is clearly too old for any practical use."

Anli stammered, her mind drawing a blank and her face echoing her thoughts like an open book. Escad watched her closely; he noted that her hand went away from the antique blade and began to fidget.

"'S a project. Found it in my smithy before my little… accident. No point in leaving it at the workshops."

"You could've left it at home."

"What, and have it eventually be forgotten? Nah, can't do that."

"Fair enough." Escad didn't seem all too convinced, but the answer was satisfactory enough. "Although I must ask, how on earth did you manage to destroy half of your own smithy?"

There was a gleam in her eyes, the broadening of a completely _happy_ smile.

"Well… It's been a slow week. As such, I had the whole day ahead of me to tinker. And this old sword here…" Anli pointed to the other sword, the one made of Granz Steel. "…Is my lucky sword. I've been working on it ever since I first got it. Used to belong to my father. It's well-suited now for casting spells! Would you believe it? A spell sword, just like how you would use a staff or instruments! Anyway, Granz Steel is a notorious metal. Barely any compatibility at all with magic enchantments, mystic powers or the like. Good enough for general purposes, but that's about it. If I really wanted to make a better sword, I'd use Lorimar Iron or Altena Alloy. Those are good, sturdy metals with excellent inherent properties that make them well-suited for spells. Didn't have any such alloys, however, so I worked with what I had. Now, I was able to forge a compatibility with the use of a ton of crystals – generally things such as glow stones and the like – as well as other magical agents. Unfortunately, those are rare."

Anli continued her jubilant ranting, while Escad listened on. In truth, her excitement about something that she clearly enjoyed was endearing, in a way. Indeed, it was the hallmark of a curious and intelligent mind, and it was a nice distraction. He need the distraction from his own worries. His own fears and thoughts and pain.

"The sword itself is good enough for spell casting now, which in itself is exciting! But I never had much occasion to try it out save for some of my tests back at home. But… Well, I noticed that one of the elemental enchants – specifically the Salamander one – was fading, and I couldn't let it happen. So I was looking around, and found I didn't have all of the materials I needed or even wanted to use for my experiments today. So instead, went about cleaning and organizing, found this old sword, and got distracted. One thing led to another and… boom! I was knocked out cold. Lucky for me, you have excellent timing. Anyway, I still need to find the materials I need and–" Anli stopped suddenly, sheepish.

"I'm sorry. I'm boring you, aren't I?"

Escad looked offended at the statement. "Uh, no, not necessarily. Why would you say that?"

"Because most of the time when I start talking about _anything_, people get this glazed over, bored look in their eyes and they stare off into the distance. At best, they feign politeness and call me 'eccentric'. But I know that 'eccentric' is just the polite word for 'crazy girl that lives alone working on her mad experiments, blowing things up and talks too much'. It hurts, to be honest. So I… I just don't… say anything."

And as soon as she started, Anli withdrew. The Holy Knight could sympathize.

"That would explain it."

"Uh… Yes. Sorry. I'll just… Nevermind."

"If it is any consolation…" The Holy Knight said, soothingly. "I was never taken seriously that much when I was young, either."

"But you are young."

"I'm twenty-eight."

"Really?" Anli paused, mulling it over. "Well, hey. Lookin' pretty good."

There was the ghost of a grin, tracing the corners of his mouth. "How about you? You're rather young for a blacksmith."

"If you must know, I turned eighteen just three weeks ago."

"Ah."

"What about you?"

"Huh…" Escad murmured in thought. "It's the first cycle of Barlen's moon, third Salamander day, so… About four months ago, in the winter."

"So, late into Tryne's Cycle."

"Second Holy Day."

"Happy birthday."

Escad had to shake his head at that, the trace of the grin bearing just a touch wider before fading just as quickly. Anli fidgeted, before changing the subject.

"So, what does a Holy Knight of Gato's Temple of Healing do, anyway?"

"Well, no making things explode for one. However, it would make the politicking that much more interesting."

"Politicking?"

"Indeed. My role as the Holy Knight is the serve as the Knight and Defender of the High Priestess, and as one branch of the Triumvirate."

"Triumvirate?"

Escad nodded as the pair resumed their leisurely pace. "The Triumvirate is the leadership of not only the Temple of Healing, but also that of the city of Gato itself. There is the High Priestess, of whom handles the spiritual affairs of the temple and the city, the Monk, and the Holy Knight. The Monk is the one who handles the direct affairs of the Temple itself, while the Holy Knight is the one who cares for the affairs of the city. The Monk and the Holy Knight also serve as the guardians of the Temple, the City and the High Priestess. There are checks and balances of what each member can and cannot do, and duties often are shared and overlap between the three, but those are the generalities."

Anli's interested was piqued.

"So what happens to the Triumvirate when one is missing? And does the Temple and the City know you're all the way out here?"

"There is enough overlap between the three for the remainder to take on that person's duties. In the case of one member's death, a replacement is selected and trained. However, finding a suitable candidate can take many years. And to answer your next question, yes. They do know that I've been away, in a manner of speaking."

"Sounds like a long story behind that."

"You have _no_ idea." Escad muttered, a stiff chuckle followed by the hollow tinge of pain. She didn't need to know that he had spent ten years of his life in the realm of the dead – the Underworld – where everyday was a battle to keep his mind and his very being from slipping away. She didn't need to know of the sting of betrayal he faced and the hurt he suffered. She didn't need to know of his need for justice and closure. The need to try to save someone he had once failed.

This was something she had apparently picked up on, for she looked to him with a curious gaze. As nice as it was, he didn't need to the sympathy. He only needed to get to town. In an effort to reassure her that all was well, Escad nodded. The young woman didn't seem convinced, pursing her lips, before rolling her shoulders back into a shrug.

Anli suddenly changed her pace, and rushed ahead, jogging up a gently slopping hill. Escad joined her at a much more leisurely pace, momentarily blinded by the sun. When his sight readjusted to the passing sunlight, he turned his attention to the small country town before them. Domina was the very image of a pastoral country village. Rolling hills, lush green fields of farmland. Cozy little buildings. There was a main square, framed nicely by a few modest-sized homes and shops, a decent-sized inn and a tavern right next door for the benefit of travelers. There was a decent-sized village market, and a church dedicated to the worship of the Goddess, and even a small park with a fountain. Surrounding the town, were more comfortable homes and gardens. A picturesque town of life, color and community. The girl quite happily beamed at him, before gesturing with a grand flourish.

"There it is. Domina. Pretty as a painting, isn't it? You'll find most of you need here. Supplies. Tavern, an inn to rest. The tavern, the market and the town square are all good spots to check for news and rumors in the surrounding countryside, and people do love to gossip. We get plenty of travelers here, so you won't stick out too much."

"Of course…" there was the sly, flirtatious drawl again; the impish smile, the gleaming eyes, the subtle tilt to her hips and shoulders, and a hand on her waits. "I'd be careful if I were you. All the local girls may just end up following you around. Don't get that many tall, handsome, broody Holy Knight-types around here."

Escad didn't respond to that, save for one simple statement.

"I do not brood."

"Sure you do!" Anli then made a ridiculous mimicry of his stern expression. "You keep walking around looking like this, and you'll have a whole trail of swooning women after you! They'd have broody babies in your honor!"

"Swooning?"

"Yeah, swooning! You know, this?" Anli then made a greatly exaggerated sighing sound, and pretended to faint, a hand ever-so-daintily raised to her forehead. "That sort of swooning!"

"Oh, so like what you just did."

"Actually, I'm _flirting_. Flirting is an active expression of interest, usually between two people. Many women in this town women prefer swooning, but I like flirting. 'S more fun that way. There's a difference. Are you really this dim? Well, can't all be perfect, I suppose. At least you're pretty."

"I _am_ educated, Miss Anli." Escad crossed his arms again.

"Sure you are."

There was a moment, as the two of them looked to the sleepy little town. The breeze, light and balmy, touching skin and hair and clothing. The sun, warm and bright. And everything else, just for one moment, was calm. For Escad, no thoughts of revenge or lament. For Anli, no concerns or worries about broken smithies or antique swords with unexplainable magic powers. The girl took another moment to appreciate just how handsome the man beside her really was, and there was a much softer, more open smile this time. No flirting or innuendos, or eagerly eyeing his physique. For once, she was glad for some pleasant company, even if the Holy Knight was about the most serious man she had ever met.

"For what it's worth," he murmured softly, but clearly. "I will have to thank you. I would have been lost without you."

Anli practically beamed at him. "Sweet-talker."

"No, really. I actually _would_ have been literally _lost_ if I had not met you." Escad stammered on that, a hand rubbing his forehead and the other gesturing awkwardly before resting on the hilt of his sword. She giggled.

"We were having a moment. You spoiled it."

"We never _had_ a moment." Escad stressed, voice deadpan, face stern once more. He softened. "All of the same, thank you, for being a guide and for the company."

"A pleasure. And thanks."

"For what?"

"For coming by when you did. I probably still would've been half-buried under my smithy if you hadn't come, and I would've been far worse off. So… Thanks."

Escad nodded. His head titled to the side, and his eyes narrowed, examining her.

"You're interesting."

"I'm _interesting_? Really?" Anli had to laugh at that, as she ambled her way down the hill and towards the town entrance. Escad followed not too far behind. "Is that your idea of flirting back?"

"It is not flirting, nor is it a proposition. It is a simple observation. You're a blacksmith, with a destroyed smithy and of whom also claims a rather passionate interest in engineering. And you flirt rather shamelessly with perfect strangers who come to your home."

"Only the tall, brooding, handsome, blonde ones. With the nice physiques. And piercing blue eyes."

"As I've said," Escad replied, sterner, but not impolite. "You're interesting. We shall meet again."

With that, he nodded, and gave a quick salute. Anli mirrored the gesture and watched as Escad strode off, towards the outskirts and the small church. She watched until he disappeared around the corner and down the pathway, vanishing into the bustle of townspeople. With that, Escad was gone. She didn't expect to see him again, save for perhaps an incidental run-in or two while she was in town, nor did she really expect much else. Just a bit of fun, flirting with a handsome Knight, but not much else. Just a bit of conversation, a distraction from being _alone_ all the time. No family, not much in the way of close friends, or anything else. Just a girl with a broken smithy, an old antique sword, and a lot of work to do and not much time to do it.

She turned on her heels, ambling over to the town notice board. She didn't notice the gentle-faced boy with the curly blonde hair, dressed in red and a spear strapped to his back. She didn't notice a young man with a green cloak and a crystalline arm, skulking about with eyes filled with fear. She didn't notice the pair of elfin twins, with wild shocks of violet hair, mischievous grins and boundless energy. Anli wouldn't notice the Holy Knight returning to the town square to explore at his leisure, nor would she notice the faces in the crowd, in the sleepy peace of the town. Each would lead to their own path, to the knowing of a family, of a loyal friend, of the promise of love, and the calling of a destiny yet to be fulfilled.

Ultimately, it was just another day.

* * *

End Chapter

Told y'all they were a fun pair. I know I had fun writing the interplay between Anli and Escad, as well as sneaking some female gaze in there. Hopefully, this can set the stage for the two of them being lovers later on.


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